


My Neighbor, Lavellan

by love_in_nature



Series: My Neighbor-Modern AU [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Definite Smut, F/M, Fluff, Masturbation, Modern AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possible smut, Professor!Solas, Solas POV, professor solas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-15 18:27:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9250268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/love_in_nature/pseuds/love_in_nature
Summary: A series of snippets to give Solas POV forMy Neighbor, Fen'harel.The chapter(s) the POV corresponds with will be listed in the chapter summary.There will be no set updating schedule for this one.  I'll put POV chapters for those I think are most relevant but if there is one you guys really would like to see feel free to send me a request here or on mytumblr.





	1. Thrown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter goes with chapters 2 and 3 of My Neighbor, Fen'harel.

It only took Solas a moment to find what he came for.  The little cakes were a treat he indulged in more than he should if he were honest.  Yet, when he had started making his dinner the thought of having them after was too tempting to ignore.  He had placed the salmon in the oven before slipping on his shoes and going to the store.  He was close enough it would still have some cooking time left when he got back, he need not worry it would overcook or burn while he was away.

Just as he was exiting the aisle with his prize, someone collided with him.  In the same instance his nostrils filled with a mix of lavender, vanilla, and a purely unique scent he had not had the pleasure of in a very long time.  The closest thing he had ever been able to equate it to was a mix of newly opened books and pure female.  That combination.  It was not possible to have that here.

His eyes looked down and widened a hint at the site in front of him as the woman bent to collect her things.  It must be his mind playing tricks.  Even after all this time he---

The woman spoke, still not looking at him, “I’m so sorry.  I wasn’t watching where I was going.  I really can be such a clutz sometimes.  Totally my fault. Uhm…”

It was her voice.  Rich and melodic, the slightest accent from her origins still hanging onto certain words.  Solas' heart thundered in his chest, and he found he could not remember how to breathe properly.  It was impossible.  She was in Orlais still.  That she would be here of all places…

Then she was looking up at him frozen.  His box of cakes held part way up to him.  He watched the flitting of emotions play across her face as clear as if she were speaking them.  Recognition, disbelief, shock, pain, and finally rage.  The rage settling there, flaming behind her eyes as she stood.

“What are you doing here?”

It was automatic.  The hard schooling of his expression to show no emotion.  Centuries of this being his way of hiding his intent made the mask slide on with ease.  It had always annoyed her when they had been together; now it fanned the rage already bubbling inside her.

Emmy jabbed his box of cakes at him to emphasise her words, “I asked what you were doing here.”

It was more effort than he would care to admit to keep his tone even, “Shopping.  It is near where I am currently residing.”  As she went to jab the box at him once more, his hand came up to grab the end of it, “May I have my cakes back?”

Surprisingly, she relinquished them to him.  He had half expected them thrown at his face.  Something he was glad to be wrong on, not that he would not deserve such a thing.

Her eyes narrowed at him, “What do you mean ‘currently residing’?”

He had forgotten.  Though not a day had gone by where he had not thought of her, he had forgotten just how stunning she was in person.  Memories, tv, and pictures could do little justice to someone like her.  She was magnificent, and those things only caught a small portion of it.

It was hugely distracting being so near her again.  Solas searched for something to say, to put himself back on track.  “I am unsure how to clarify that statement more.”  

His eyes settled on the cups she was currently keeping a steadily hardening grip on, most likely thinking of doing that to his throat instead.  “You are breaking the cups.”

It clearly took her a good amount of physical effort to release the cups.  As his eyes went back to hers, she glared at him with such hatred it made his breath catch.

She growled out, “Good day.”  Then spun from him going to the register.

With her attention no longer on him, he took a deep shuddering breath.  The fingers of one hand went up to pinch the brow of his nose.  He heard her make a comment about a hitman and he pinched harder.  Then he took one more deep breath before straightening his shoulders and going to stand behind her.

She avoided looking at him as she paid for her stuff and walked out the door.  He could see the rigidness of her body as she forced herself to keep a slow pace.  

As he paid for the cakes, his mind remained on her.  She must be visiting someone.  There was no conceivable way she lived here.  The chances were far too small that she could be living here.  True, the Inquisition had been disbanded for several months, but he would have known if she was no longer with them in Orlais.  She would have told him or rather, the man she did not realize was him.

The cashier handed him the cakes.  When he walked out the door, his confusion increased as he found himself following her.  Then she turned into his apartment building, and his footsteps halted in shock for a moment.  Surely not.

Another deep shuddering breath and he forced his feet forward again.  The moment he walked in the door, she turned to him from the stairs entrance.  He swore he saw a pulse in her forehead twitch before she ground out, “Alright, that’s---”

Jim interrupted her.  Solas and Jim did their usual dance of him asking Jim to call him by his first name instead of Dr. Evans.  Jim refusing, as always.  

Then both men looked to Emmy.  She looked pale, her face drawn and shoulders slumped.  The way she looked made Solas’ heart clench and he had to force a swallow in his tightening throat.

“Are you alright, Miss Lavellan?”

Her voice came out barely a squeak, “Fine.”  Then she straightened her shoulders some and continued in a stronger voice, “He lives here?”

Jim looked from one to the other, brows furrowed with confusion, “Yes…”

Solas was growing tired of this.  To see her, the way her face fell once again at the confirmation, it was killing him a little inside.  He felt himself cracking.  It was important that he get to his own place where he could think.  Be alone.

When he stepped into the elevator, he hesitated.  The desire to be near her just a little while longer warred with the pain of what they had been and what they were now.  He shifted, his politeness and desire winning out as he moved a hand to hold the door, “Are you coming?”

Her pain was still there, but the rage was back now with it, “I’m taking the stairs.”  

He could not help but wince at the force of the door to the stairs slamming behind her.  Jim stood staring at the door, his mouth slightly open, still confused.  Solas could not blame him.  Without context, the whole exchange must be strange.

The moment he removed his hand from the doors they slid shut, and he pressed the button for the fourth floor.  He let his head fall back and shut his eyes.  Something wet streamed down one cheek.  He reached up his fingers brushing along his face.

Then he straightened and looked at the tips of his fingers, a slight frown on his lips.  It had been a long time since he had shed tears.  Not since he had left her.  The sensation was an odd one.  The fact that she still had this strong of an effect on him still was unnerving but not surprising.

The elevator beeped.  The doors slid open with a quiet hiss to reveal the familiar cream walls and dark bamboo flooring.  The building was more modern than he would have usually preferred but he had warmed to the wood flooring, as well as the apartment itself.  

He had one of the largest ones set at the end of the hall.  The living space had large windows on each side with a balcony that wrapped around and gave him enough room for a small garden.  The kitchen had been a good size for an apartment, and it had included an office in addition to the bedroom.  All selling points for him.  No other apartment in this town had suited his needs.

Now as he slipped his key into place he heard her voice down the hall, “Fuck me.”

He almost dropped the keys as he turned his head to look at her.  Those words had been spoken to him before from her mouth, but when they had her eyes had been dark with lust, the full lips swollen and rouged from his attentions to them.  The memories made his hands shake.

It had been many centuries since he had to work this hard to keep his face unreadable.  It grew harder to control as she continued to walk closer to him.  When she stopped at the door directly next to him, he could feel it slip for a beat before he forced it back.

He managed to get out, “You--”

The door she was in front of opened, “Good.”  Professor Pavus’ voice.  He would recognize it anywhere.  The professor stepped out so Solas could see that it was, indeed, him,  “You finally decided to grace us with your presence again.  Turns out Cassandra does not do hungry well.”  

The relief was so immense a gurgle of laughter threatened to bubble from his throat.  He had worried for nothing.  Having her right next to him like that would have been far too cruel of a joke on both of them, even for a world such as this one.

He spoke trying to hide the relief from his voice, “Professor Pavus, I see.  This is your residence.”

Professor Pavus’ eyes went to him; eyebrows raised high, and the relief was chased away just as quickly as it had come.  His body going numb even as Professor Pavus confirmed his fears, “Me? Live here? Are you mad?  No offense meant of course.”

Emmy’s tone was flat as she attempted to shove Professor Pavus into the apartment, “Of course.”

Professor Pavus stood steady, “You two know each other?”

He watched as Emmy’s brows knitted together, even more, a little furrow of irritation making itself known at the bridge of her nose, “Years ago.”  Her hands went up, and she shoved Pavus hard enough to get him inside before saying, “Hardly anything worthy of note.”  Then the door slammed behind her.

Forcing steady breathes he turned to his own door.  He opened it then shut it behind him, letting the pack of cakes drop to the floor.  He pressed his palms flat against the wood, leaning forward with his head hanging down.  Tears were burning the corners of his eyes once more.  Why had those last words stung so severely?

He allowed himself a few moments to let it out before he slipped off his shoes and light coat.  Then he bent over and picked up the cakes before walking to his kitchen.  He placed the sweets in a cabinet then reached over to take a bottle of wine from his hanging wine rack along with an empty glass.  It was a lovely red he had gotten on his last trip to Orlais.  

He did not care much for Orlais, but he had to concede they did some things right.  Wine and frilly cakes.  Otherwise, the whole country was a waste of space.  

He opened the oven to check his salmon.  The timer still had several minutes left, so he closed the door again and took a sip of his wine.  Wine glass in hand he walked through the living space and into his office.  The space was comforting with its shelves of books and papers scattered about.  

To an outsider, his desk would look a cluttered mess.  Random papers laid out around his laptop, an open book to one side, a planner, and various pens.  There was even an inkwell and quill that he used on occasions he was feeling nostalgic for times past.

Tonight, he felt nostalgia but not of that kind.  It was nostalgia that had a very specific focus to it.  The woman who now lived directly next door to him.  

He set his wine down on the desk before opening his laptop and going to his e-mail.

His thoughts wandered to the problem at hand.  There was little regarding solutions.  Moving was not an option.  There was too much here that he needed to stay for.  The eluvian for one.  Then there were the archives and all the material within.  It was by far the most efficient place for him to continue with the work he must do and there was still much to be done.

He would move if he could.  For her sake even more than his.  However, no amount of wishing it could be so would change the fact that it was not possible.  He would just have to continue.  Whatever had brought her here it might take her away from here just as suddenly.

That thought firm in his mind he opened a new e-mail and typed in her name.  She was in his contacts, so he no longer needed to type out the e-mail address.  Just her name.  Something that he recalled had felt violating and intimate somehow when they had first started this.

 

 **Recipient:** Emmy

 **Subject:** As Requested

_Attached are the corrected translations of the document you asked me to look at.  I am impressed.  There were only a few errors.  Your ancient Tevene has improved greatly and rapidly.  There were only a few minor adjustments.  I believe you will no longer need my help on such things._

_Dar’eth,_

_Fen’harel_

 

He clicked on the small digital paperclip and attached the files to the email.  Then he moved the cursor over the send button and paused.  His hand moved from the mouse to his wine glass.  He swirled the liquid, leaning back in his chair, eyes remaining on the screen as the fingers of his other hand thrummed a steady rhythm on his desk.

There was a risk if he went through with what he was thinking of doing.  Though it was minimal, it was there.  Still, it would allow him to get a better idea of the situation he found himself in.  After a beat more he took a breath of air before he straightened in his chair.  He took a sip of his wine before setting it down.  His fingers went to the keyboard, and he added one last line to the end of the e-mail.

 

_P.S. Is there something you need to tell me da’len?_

 

Then, before he could think better of it, he hit the send button.  At that very moment, the alarm went off in his kitchen to let him know the salmon was done.  He stood with his wine and went in to have his dinner.  Whatever happened now hopefully he would be able to regain some semblance of control over the situation.


	2. Great Temptations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter goes with chapters 4 and 5 of [My Neighbor, Fen'harel.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7787896/chapters/17766004)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a small part in this chapter that is somewhat **NSFW** but nothing super explicit so I didn't mark the chapter for it. ;)

Solas leaned forward in the hot bath water to blow out the last of the candles that he had lined along the edge.  The book he had been reading, or rather trying to read, was safely discarded on the side of the tub where it would not risk becoming wet.  Another benefit of this apartment, it had a good sized soaking tub with a ledge all around that allowed him to indulge in this small pleasure.

As he reached over to open the drain, he released a small sigh.  Tonight the indulgence had not kept its usual appeal.  Instead of focusing on the words in front of him, his mind had been securely lodged on memories of her, and on the small bark of laughter that he had heard so clearly on the other side of the wall.  

There had been no one in that apartment since he had moved in.  He had no idea that the walls would be that thin.  No.  Not walls, wall, it seemed only to be the bedroom.  An odd room to have that oversight on, one would think it would be a place where thick walls were desired.  Certainly if things were different, if he had her in his bed and another neighbor next door, he would be receiving regular complaints.  Then again she had always been beautifully vocal in her lust and if he had the chance again he would---

_ Enough. _

He scowled at the direction his thoughts had gone and curled his fingers several times as he tried to chase such musings from his mind.  She was not his to think such things about anymore.  If his own reasons for staying away had not been enough, the hate in her eyes when she looked at him surely was.  She would never let him touch her again, even if he should ever be fool enough to try.  

There was an uncomfortable constriction in his chest as he stood.  The water dripped down his skin, the steam doing little to ease the contrast of the cold air on his heated body.  He shivered and reached for his towel to dry himself off as the water drained from around his legs.  As he did so, he scowled once again at the semi-erection that had formed at the thoughts of her in his bed.  

He ignored his arousal as he continued his drying off.  By the time he was dry it had receded.  It was his custom to sleep in the nude, so he hung his towel neatly before picking up his book and going back to his bedroom.  When he entered, he went to set the book carefully on his night stand then reached for the stereo remote to turn off his music.  

Once quiet surrounded him, his ears twitched as he listened for her.  There was nothing but silence that felt thick in the air around him.  She had either gone to sleep or was doing something that made no discernable noise.  Not that it was any of his business.  Not that he now hung on the chance to hear the slightest sound from her, to know that she was so close to him.

With a shake of his head, he went to his bed and pulled back the soft robin’s egg blue sheets.  Then he slid into them, the cotton brushing against his skin as though pointing out that he was still affected by his earlier thoughts, his skin more sensitive than normal.  As he pulled the sheets up, he allowed his hands to rest on them.  The moonlight shone in from the windows reflecting on his arms and bed.  For a moment he debated shutting the curtains.  

She had a deep adoration for the night sky and the soft light of the moon.  

He would let the curtains remain open.

With one last wiggle to make himself comfortable, he shut his eyes and tried to sleep.  The act took him much longer than usual.  When he did, it was also lighter than normal, which was saying a lot because he always slept lightly.

This was why he woke almost instantly when he heard the sounds coming from the other side of the wall.   She was talking.  Not talking.   _ Moaning _ .  Little sounds of pleasure that set fire to his senses.  

In less than a beat he was sitting up in his bed.  His heart thudding against his skin and in his ears as all the little hairs rose on his arms and nape.  When she mewled again, his fingers clenched the sheets.  A pained sound escaping from deep in his throat.

He threw off the covers and hurried out of his bed.  This was not his to have anymore.  He would not, could not, stay here and listen to her.  He---

“There.  Solas… I…”

_ Solas. _

His hands clenched and his knees felt weak.  Her words had made him freeze mid-step.  His name.  She had moaned his name.  She was dreaming about him.  

The way the blood pounded in his ears, he was surprised he heard the next part, “Solas.  In me, now.  I need you to--”  

Her words were swallowed by a cry of pleasure and he fled the room.  Desperate to rid himself of the sound, he hurried into his living room and turned on the rarely used tv, pressing down on the volume button until the sound engulfed him.  He did not even register what was on.  Did not care.  

He sunk onto his couch and put his face in his hands, gulping in deep, shaky breaths of air.  His arousal continued to throb through him, her words sticking to his skin, clawing into his mind and refusing to let go.  It was too much.  He had no place, no right to do this, but he needed.  He needed so badly.

With a growl of frustration, he wrapped his fingers around his erection.  Then he leaned back on the couch, shutting his eyes as he let his head fall back.  When he moved along himself, it was rough, merciless, almost violent in his need and irritation at himself for being so weak.  He did not bother with any lubrication, taking the pain of rubbing himself raw with the pleasure.  

It did not take long.  As he spilled his heat along his hand and stomach, he sighed out her name.  The word a caress along his tongue.  It had been so long since he had allowed that name to pass his lips.  Now it came out like a plea for salvation.  One that he feared, that he  _ knew _ , could never come.

Once his body had stilled, he inhaled once more and stood.  He went into his bathroom to clean himself before going into his bedroom and quickly grabbing his clothing.  Luckily she seemed to have quieted, so he was able to be in and out without any other incidents.  

As soon as he was dressed he shut off the tv, gathered his briefcase, and was out the door.  He would be early to work even for him, but he did not care.  He needed out of that space, needed air, distractions, anything really but her so near him and yet so far.

 

\-----------------------------------------------

 

The rest of his day went by as usual.  For once he was happy that the student’s expected nothing but an overview of the course syllabus on their first day of classes.  Usually, he would have done more eliciting a chorus of complaints from his students.  Today he was apart from himself and welcomed the easiness of simply stating what was expected for the semester.

When his last class had ended, he headed to his office.  He shut the door behind him and went over to sit in his chair allowing his head to lean back for a moment.  This could not happen again.  Perhaps he should invest in earplugs for when he slept.  

There was a lingering headache from this morning that still pounded incessantly at his temple.  He pinched the bridge of his nose and gave an annoyed huff before he straightened in his chair.  Determined to get something useful done today he turned on his computer and opened his e-mail.

It had been his intent to check on the status of the documents that were being sent to him and to see if Tethras had responded to his previous inquiry on the latest article publication he had sent out.  This was dashed the moment a ding sounded, and a new e-mail showed up in his inbox.  All other plans were forgotten as his attention focused on the message that had just arrived.

His heart beat an unsteady rhythm against his rib cage as he double clicked on her name.

  
  


**Recipient:** _ Fen’harel _

**Subject:** _ Thank you _

 

_ Thank you for your help and for the compliment.  Don’t be too eager to be rid of me, hahren.  I’m sure I still will need your help with things like this on occasion.  As for having something to tell you, I’ve got a new job and have moved to a place called Haven.  But you knew this didn’t you?  Or you wouldn’t have asked.  _

 

_ You continue to know so much about me when I know so little about you.  You could tell me who you are you know.  I’m very good at keeping secrets. _

 

_ Are you angry with me, hahren?  It is unlike you to so blatantly pry into my personal life.  Usually you make a point of avoiding it.    _

 

_ But, for your information, I was waiting till I got settled more and I would have told you.  I don’t even have internet at my place yet.  Of course, if you gave me a cell number I could have just texted or called. _

 

_ Emmy _

  
  


In an ideal world, he could tell her the whole truth.  In an ideal world, he would never have had to leave her, to begin with.  This was not an ideal world, however, and he would do what he needed to in order to help her and keep her safe.  Even if it meant hiding the fact that Fen’harel and Solas were one in the same from her.  Though it always brought a bitter taste to his mouth when he thought of it.

He clicked on the compose message button, but before he even started typing a response, he paused.  The e-mail had just come in which meant she was likely at a computer still.  He could send her a chat.  It would be impulsive, reckless, and he should not.  Whenever he had in the past it was always too easy, too tempting, to take it places he could not.  He should just e-mail her.  

He opened the chat service and put in her name.

 

**Fen’harel:** _ I am not angry.  Simply curious.  As for how I know, I have my fair share of eyes and ears.   _

 

There were a few moments where nothing happened.  The clock on the wall in front of him ticking the seconds by as his eyes remained glued to the screen.  He fidgeted then sighed.  This was good.  She must have left already.  He should have just e-mailed her in the---

Then it popped up on the bottom, “Emmy is typing…”  He leaned forward as his stomach fluttered.

 

 **Emmy:** _You started a chat with me! :D I should mark the occasion on my calendar._

**Emmy:** _ Also, is that your way of saying you’re having me watched?  Do you have a trail on me or something?  D:  Creepy, wolfie! _

 

A chuckle escaped his lips, and his hand went up to cover his mouth.  He started to type a response but it came out teasing, flirtatious, and he quickly deleted it.  Now was the time to tread carefully.  He started typing a new response that had a more serious tone despite the soft smile he knew resided on his lips.

 

 **Fen’harel:** _Do not make me regret it already, da’len.  And no.  I am not having you followed; it was pure coincidence that I happened to find out about your change of location.  I did not know what it was for, only that you had moved.  What is this new job of yours?_

 

 **Emmy:** _Oh it’s amazing.  You’d adore it, but I’m not going to tell you._

 

He frowned then and quickly typed in his response.

 

**Fen’harel:** _ Why? _

 

**Emmy:** **** _ It isn’t fair that you know so much about me, but I know nothing about you.  Not even your real name or what you look like.  I don’t even know your gender. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ _

 

He gave a little grunt of annoyance as his eyebrows rose just a touch.

 

**Fen’harel:** _ I should have thought the last would have been obvious. _

 

**Emmy:** _ Why would it be obvious?  It may be common for parents to name their kids after elven gods, but Fen’harel isn’t one you hear often.  Plus, with how secretive you are I highly doubt you’d publish under your real name.  Or perhaps you presumed I’d know based on context of past conversations?   _

**Emmy:** _ You don’t have to be a male to want to get into bed with me.   _

**Emmy:** _ Just because you can be flirty sometimes, almost had online sex with me the one time, and you chose a male pen name doesn’t automatically mean you’re male. _

 

His throat felt thick as he read the lines she had sent.  This was going off track.  He needed to redirect and fast.  He started to type a long, impersonal response about how his gender was hardly an important topic.  How he did not want to get into bed with her,  _ a lie _ .  He desperately wanted in bed with her.  In bed.  Against the wall.  In a bath.  On the floor.  Anywhere.  Everywhere.

He gave a growl of frustration and deleted the whole thing he had typed.  His fingers came up to pinch the bridge of his nose as it wrinkled beneath his fingertips.  Then a ding sounded, and he removed his hand to read what she wrote.

 

 **Emmy:** _I’m sorry, I was just teasing.  I know you’re not actually interested in me at like that.  I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable._

 

She thought he did not want her.  Good, that was good he should let her think that.  When he typed, it was not what he had planned it to be.  It was the opposite.  Two simple sentences.

_ I want you.  I want you so badly I burn with it. _

Immediately he deleted it with a grimace and slight shake of his head.  Then he started to type once again.  Started to type the lie telling her she was correct in her assumption but he could not get past the first word of it before he deleted it.  Tried again.  Failed again.

He fidgeted and stood feeling like his skin was too tight on his body.  With almost jerky movement he walked from his computer to look out his window his fingers clenching and unclenching.  He rolled his neck, then with an impatient huff, turned back to sit swiftly at his computer and typed a response, hitting send before he could think better of it.

 

**Fen’harel:** _ You presume much today, lethallan. _

 

He realized what he had typed and winced.  That had been a mistake, but it was too late to take it back.  All he could do was make it clear that, even if he wanted her, they did not have a future.

 

**Fen’harel:** _ Wanting something and being able to act on such desires are two separate things.  You should not care for me.  You do not even know who I truly am, as you stated yourself. _

 

There was a pause and then the typing icon came up at the bottom of his screen.  He waited, time measured by the pulsing of his heart against his throat.

 

 **Emmy:** _I don’t know what you look like.  Looks are not nearly as important as the rest.   All you’ve done for me.  All we’ve shared even though it is just in e-mails.  I feel more myself with you than anyone around me in person.  When I imagine you being with me I can’t picture you but I feel you._

 

He reread her words over and over.  The last three words making him feel light headed as they repeated in his mind.  Heat flooded his body, and he found it was difficult to take in a full breath.  Then his fingers were typing, though he swore he had no control over them.

 

 **Fen’harel:** _You imagine such things, how I feel?_

 

Just as he hit send, he realized the foolishness of what he had written.  The impossibility of where it would lead, where he could not afford to go.  His breath hitched, and he typed quickly to try to repair his mistake.

 

 **Fen’harel:** _Stop._

 **Fen’harel:** _I can not continue this, Emmy.  We should not._

 

**Emmy:** _ You don’t imagine things like that?  How I’d taste against your lips.   _

**Emmy:** _What my skin would feel like against yours.  The sounds I’d make.  How we’d be mad with lust for each other._

**Emmy:** _ I’m guessing the first time would be rough and hungry.  Then again a while later, slow and sensual. _

 

Every damn day.  

There had not been a day since he had left her that he had not thought of her.  That he had not thought what it would be like to take her again.  That he had not thought how he wanted to devour her whole.  

He felt himself growing hard beneath his desk at her words.  The fact that she thought about this also.  The memory of her voice this morning and---

“Solas.  I just knew I would find you here.”

He jerked hard enough that his hips slammed into his desk along with another now prominent member of his body.  The string of curses that came from his mouth would have made the most experienced prostitute blush.  

Dorian’s eyes were wide from the door, “I had no idea you had such colorful vocabulary.  You are always so…”  He eyed Solas’ outfit, “nondescript.”

Solas quickly clicked to minimize his internet as he scowled at Dorian.  “Did you require something or did you simply wish to hear yourself talk?”

He gave a mock expression of horror, “Solas, have I offended you?”

“If you have, why would it concern you?”

“Because we’re here working together for a common cause, to attempt to lower the amount of idiocy in this world,” Dorian had walked into his office and was now absent-mindedly pulling out books from his shelves before replacing them, “and because I respect your teaching abilities.”

Solas lips thinned and he inhaled audibly through his nose, “What favor do you want of me, Dorian?”

Dorian put the last book back on the shelf with a force that made Solas scowl.  Then he turned to face Solas with his hands up and said, “Can’t a colleague just come to chat with another colleague?”  He lowered his hands and walked to Solas’ side glancing at the computer screen before continuing,  “Bond over the first day and what the mass of students seems to offer so far.”

“No.”

Dorian gave an exaggerated sigh, “We seem to have a mutual friend, so I was offering an olive branch.”  He leaned against the bookshelf closest to Solas and crossed his arms as he asked, “How  _ do _ you know our lovely Emmy?”

“Ah.”  Solas shook his head and stood from his desk. By now his arousal was no longer an issue so he could stand without worry as he replied, “Not that it is any of your concern, but she was a student of mine in the past.”

“There seemed to be more to it.”  Dorian wiggled his eyebrows, “A torrid love affair perhaps?  Now  _ that  _ would be a true surprise.”

He felt the pulse in his jaw twitch and took another deep breath, “I have work to do.  If you have nothing relevant, then I must ask that you leave.”  He went over to the door and held it open wider, “Was there anything else?”

Dorian gave another exaggerated sigh before he stood, “No but you really should get out more, come join us for drinks sometime, staying holed up in your office all day does no favors for your complexion.”  As he passed Solas to go out the door his eyes took in his outfit again, “I could take you shopping sometime.”

“I will keep the offer in mind, but for now, as thrilling as letting you use me as a dress-up doll sounds, I have matters to attend to.”

The moment Dorian had stepped out of the threshold Solas started to close the door.  As he did Dorian leaned over and said, “Good-bye for now.  Call me for a shopping date.”

He shut the door and clicked the lock on it as his teeth clenched.  Then a ding sounded from his computer, and his attention was immediately redirected.  

It took some willpower to force himself to walk at a normal pace back to his desk.  He set in his chair and brought back up the chat.  His heart fluttering.  When he read her words heat filled his face.

 

**Emmy:** _ Have you fled from me or are your hands too busy doing other things to type ;).  Maybe I should make my hands busy too.  Certainly in the mood for it now. _

 

Though her words started to stir the flames in him again, Dorian had been good for something.  He had brought Solas back to the reality around him.  

 

 **Fen’harel:** _I am at work.  Please desist this._

 

 **Emmy:** _I’m at work too ;)_

**Emmy:** _ Wait, does that mean if you weren’t at work you’d play along? _

 

Impossible.  She was utterly impossible, and he needed to stop this.

 

**Fen’harel:** _ That is enough of this game of yours.  If you do not wish to tell me of your new situation, then I will not force the matter.  I must go. _

 

 **Emmy:** _An archivist_

 

A weight fell in his chest as his thoughts scrambled over her words.  An archivist.  The university had recently hired a new head archivist, but he had not paid it much mind at the time.  He was in the archives enough he knew he would meet them before long and would assess then.  

It could not be; she could not be.  He started a question, deleted, started again, deleted.  His fingers went up to rub his eyelids before he took a small intake of breath and typed simply;

 

**Fen’harel:** _ An archivist, where? _

 

 **Emmy:** _I would’ve thought you’d know that, all seeing one._

 

His head throbbed.

 

**Fen’harel:** _ Amuse me. _

 

 **Emmy:** _Why?  You didn’t want to play with me when it was my game._

**Emmy:** _ It’s my first day, stop distracting me.  I’ll send you an e-mail when I get my home internet set-up.   _

**Emmy:** _ Good-bye wolfie. :* _

 

Even as the truth was facing him squarely, he could not bring himself to accept it.  He pushed back his chair and started to leave.  Then stopped himself.  He started to pace his office with his hands clasped firmly behind his back.

He needed to know for sure.  If it was true, he needed undeniable proof.  He could storm over there now.  There were plenty of reasons for him to be there.  When he got there, he could casually question Merrill about the status of the new head archivist.  

What if she was there?  What if he unintentionally ran into her?  Given all that had happened today he did not think he would be able to handle that well.  He did not think he could keep his composure as well as he must.  Not after everything.  Not after her words.  The sounds she had made this morning and what he had done in response.

No.  He would not risk it.  He would wait till tonight when she would have left the office.  Then he would go and investigate.  He had been given access to the archives and their offices so he would be able to let himself in and out without anyone knowing.  

A plan firmly in place he went to sit at his desk one more and attempted to focus his mind on finishing up the final touches of his lesson plans.


	3. Decided

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This briefly touches on chapter 7 and is mostly Solas' POV for chapter 8 of [My Neighbor, Fen'Harel.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7787896/chapters/17766004)

Solas should not have taken it that far.  He knew this.  He should not have even come to the archives in the first place, not so late in the day.  It would be easy to lie to himself, easy to say it was simply coincidence that she had been there, but it was not, and he was so tired of playing this game.

Fridays were always when the archives received donations.  After they had been sorted, they would need to be put away.  Thus it was a guarantee she would come to the area he was.  Even if he wished to claim that he planned on leaving before she arrived, that too would have been a lie.  He had gone there and waited.  Meandered.  Found excuses to stay until he saw her.

Then when it had come to that, when he had realized what he was doing, he had tried to tell himself that he would just see her and then leave.  He would not antagonize her.  He would not flirt or try to get her attention in any way he could.  He would not try to keep her nearer by any means necessary, try to hear her voice for just a moment longer.

Yet here he was.  A foolish old man hoping beyond hope that she would… would what?  Come running to him before the elevators closed?  Shout from the stairs asking him to please not go?  Then what?

As the elevator doors closed on the rows of archives, and the only woman he had ever truly loved, his body felt immeasurably heavy.  This was not how this was meant to go.  It was a joke, a bad story told over and over again.  The immortal god falling for the mortal woman and dooming them both in the process.

_ “Tell me, is it habitual to run from all your problems or just from me?” _

His hand came out and hit the stop button on the elevator.  Then he leaned back against the wall before crumbling to the floor.  Once more he could feel wetness that streamed hot down his cheeks.

This should not be happening.  He should have ended it properly two years ago.  He should not have responded to her as Fen’harel, should not have engaged.  Then again, even if he had not, they would still be in this mess now.  Of that, he had no doubts.  She had fallen into darkness for a while, but even if he had not helped her as Fen’harel, not coaxed and prodded till she slowly woke again, she would have done so on her own in time.  She was strong, so very strong, and she would have pushed through.

Still, if she ever found out the truth about that day…

He shook his head.  She never would.  He would do everything he could to prevent that.  Though it should never become an issue to begin with; as far as she and the Inquisition were concerned, the case had been solved, the perpetrator taken care of, and all danger passed.  There was no need to investigate further.

The issue was even if she never knew, he did.  

He had not left soon enough.  He had started something he should not have in the first place, gotten in too deep.  Now he had shown that he would protect her at any cost.  She made him reckless, but made him want to be more, made him better.  She had opened his eyes to so much he would otherwise have remained blind to.  She had brought color and life into a world he had thought devoid of such things.  With her he had truly seen around him; even when it was painful to do so.

She was the most precious thing to him, and that very fact was what put her most at risk.  He needed to figure out what to do.  He surely could not carry on like this.  It was not fair to him, but more importantly, it was hugely unfair to her.  Cruel even.

He took a deep, shaky breath and stood, wiping the lingering moisture from his cheeks and eyes.  With his thoughts still twisting every which way he started the elevator again.  

Somehow, he managed to make it back to the apartment.  A trip he barely registered in his current state.

When he passed her door, he paused letting his fingertips brush against the knob.  He was immortal.  She was mortal.  He was dangerous, and she had been through enough.  It would surely be best to let her go for good.  To just avoid her except when absolutely necessary, even ceasing all communication with her as Fen’harel.

A clean cut.  He had apologized.  She hopefully understood it was nothing she had done.  It was best to let her live her life, best to let her find a man who could give her a safe and happy bonding.  A man she could grow old with.  He could, no he would, do that for her.  Let her move on.

He pulled his fingers from her door and curled them as he went to his residence.  Once there he forced his mind to go to other matters, though it was a constant battle not to wander back to her.

When light finally started to give way to dusk, he decided to stop working for the day.  All in all, he had gotten precious little done.  He was doubtful that would improve at all tonight.  So instead of continuing fruitlessly, he decided to relax.  He went to his room, turned on Chopin, and then prepared his bath.

He had barely settled in when he heard a sound coming from the door that opened to his bedroom.  His ears twitched before he shook his head and forced his attention back to the words in front him.  Then sounds again, this time louder, more insistent.  

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The banging undertoned by the unmistakable sounds that accompanied sex.  Was she really---

No.

He shook his head hard, brows furrowing as he tried to focus on the words.  Even if she was, it was none of his---

Bang. Bang.

He grit his teeth as his fingers tightened on the book.  This was not his---

Bang, bang, bang, bang.

“Fenedhis lasa.”

With much more force than was necessary, he threw the book across the bathroom.  Then with a growl, he stood, not bothering to open the drain as he stepped out of the water.  He barely ran the towel over his skin before he pulled on a pair of pants.  Though water still clung to him, chilling when hit by the air, he barely registered it.

The banging from her side of the wall sounding in his head as though he was physically being hit.  He stormed into his room and over to the music player in just a few quick strides.  He then flipped off the music and immediately headed towards the door of his apartment.  This had nothing to do with her having a lover.  He would keep to his earlier decision, but surely he did not have to put up with them putting a hole in his bedroom wall.

He swung his door open storming out to hers without closing it behind him.  This would only take a moment after all.  He just needed to make it clear they should keep it down.  Very clear.

Clenching his hands into fists, he brought one up to pound on the door.  Then he waited with his heart beating in his chest and his muscles tense.  The moment the door handle move he squared his shoulders and before it was completely open said, “What are---”

Then he saw Dorian standing there, and several things happened.  First thing was a wave of relief.  Dorian was very much not interested in females in that manner which meant that she was not having sex.  This brought into stark light that he had not been bothered by the noise so much as by the knowledge that someone else was filling her, pleasing her, joining with her, and him having to listen was just salt in an already deep wound.

Next, there was confusion.  If she was not having sex then what was---

His eyes went into the room and found her in an instant.  She was barefoot in jeans and a bra.  The curves that he remembered so well practically on full display.  The desire to touch her washed over him with such force his fingers twitched.  It was difficult to keep his head straight, difficult to even remember how to breathe like normal.

Dorian spoke pulling Solas from his thoughts, “Good you’re finally here, we were---”

Then Emmy shouted across the room bringing his attention back to her. Her shout was so slurred from drink it took him a moment to decipher what she had said.

“Having sex.”

He raised a brow and frowned.  Then he realized just how distracting she was to him when he only then, saw the huge man that was walking towards him.  A Qunari and one he recognized from press images of Emmy when she was Inquisitor.  The man had been her bodyguard.  Solas wondered why exactly he was in Emmy’s apartment when she no longer employed him.

Before he could even begin to try and puzzle out what exactly he had gotten himself into, Dorian was pushing past him saying, “We have another one in the car.  Take care of her tonight, yes?  You can do that much at least.”

Solas’ mouth opened with the intent to ask what exactly Dorian meant by his last sentence, but no words would form.  Surely she had not told Dorian about what had happened between them.  

Then the Qunari was passing him while glaring daggers, “I’m going to be calling her in the morning.”

A threat.  A _ Qunari _ was threatening  _ him _ .  Of all the…

Solas’ eyes wandered back to Emmy, and his anger fizzled out before it even took full form.  The Qunari clearly cared for her.  He should be grateful for it, not angry.  She needed good friends around her, people that would watch out for her.  

Though he still did not understand exactly what had happened with the banging unless...

Had she wanted him to think she was having sex?  Why?  

He watched as she gave a small heave before spinning on her heels and running into her bedroom.  There was a moment’s hesitation on what he should do.  Then it vanished almost as fast as it had come.  He would take care of her; there was never any other option.  Although he was unsure she would welcome his care once she broke out of her drunken state.

Quietly he made his way into her place trying to keep his eyes from prying.  She had not invited him in after all.  Even so, he could not help the brief glances.  The glimpse of her painting space, the coffee table stacked haphazard with papers, books, and a quarter full coffee mug.  

Then he was in her bedroom, which was painted white and the bed made with vibrant greens to match the curtains.  Here too she had books everywhere, one side of her bed containing at least three that he could see.  

She had not changed so much.  Compared to his, everything has a place, policy she was the opposite.  Things tended to go wherever and yet, what he would find tiresome with others, was somehow endearing with her.  Little bits of her thoughts scattered around like small treasures to stumble upon.

He heard the toilet flush and was brought back to the task at hand.  By the time he entered the bathroom, she had curled herself into a ball on the tiles.  He released a soft sigh as he bent down to brush a strand of hair that had stuck to her forehead.  She gave a small murmur of contentment as she shut her eyes.

There was at least a full minute where he simply stayed crouched down there watching her and trying to make sense of this whole day.  When something nudged against his thigh, he almost fell over at the unexpected touch.  It turned out to be a cat that purred as it looked from him to Emmy.  

He raised a brow before reaching out to scratch the animal behind the ear, “I think I will take her back to my place.  Would you be alright with that?”

“No would not.”  A mumble and then she shot up with a wince, “No, I’m fine.  Aren’t I Da--”

He was barely able to decipher her words, though he managed after a while with all but the cat’s name.

“You are drunk.  Someone should make sure you did not give yourself alcohol poisoning or that nothing else happens during the---”

She stood abruptly, and he followed, managing to get up just in time to catch her about the waist when she swayed and almost fell over.  She moaned and let her forehead fall against his chest.  Then she let out a muffled whine, “Head hurts.”

“I would imagine so.”

Then she pushed herself away from him, but he held her still, his hands against the bare skin of her back to keep her from falling over.  She eyed him narrowing her eyes and then hit him in the chest.

“I hate you.”

He took a deep breath, “I am aware.”

“Cuz I love you, and you’re stupid, so that means I’m stupid and I---”  

His blood pulsed so loudly in his ears he was surprised he could hear anything else.  Even as he held her, he felt his hands shake, as did his voice when he said just above a whisper, “You,” he swallowed, “you what?”

She hit him weakly in the chest with her fist, “You confuse me.”

More he was barely able to decipher, but the part before he had heard without a doubt.  The words had hit him with enough force to knock the air from his lungs.

She had said she loved him.   _ She _ loved  _ him _ .  He had not ever known she had felt that strongly for him.  The fact that she still felt it now, after everything he had done…  

Oh, he had been such an idiot.  He had lost this fight long ago.  Even if he left her now, she would still be at risk.  There was no denying she was his weakness, the one thing that could be his final undoing.  Yet, she was also his strength in so many ways.  She had challenged him, supported him, and made him feel a happiness he had long ago given up on.

He could not leave her.  Not ever again.  He would stay with her.  Protect her from those who would use her to get to him by staying close and vigilant.  After all, he had sacrificed so much for the People.  He had willingly given himself, willingly gone through centuries of fighting and utter loneliness for them.  Why should he not have something for him when this was over?  Just this one thing.  The one thing that he found he wanted for himself more than anything.

There was the issue of her mortality but, perhaps when he had completed what he intended, immortality would be restored to the elves along with everything else.  If it were not, there must be a way for him to rid himself of his own.  He was tired.  He did not want to go through yet more centuries alone, not now that he knew her, knew what he could have.

Immortality was the least of the sacrifices he would be willing to make for her.  Not even a sacrifice, it had become more of a curse than anything else.

Now he would just need to win her back.  A task he knew would not be easy even if she did love him.  He had hurt her badly.  He had done wrong.  He did not expect for that to be made right overnight.  Not to mention there was the complication of him being Fen’harel.  He would tell her just... not yet.

She brought him back from his thoughts when she tried to push from him completely while she mumbled about food for the cat.  He moved in one smooth motion to lift her into his arms.  She furrowed her brows and ranted at him, but it was so slurred he could not decipher any of it this time.

He walked her to her bed and set her on the covers letting his fingers brush her cheek, “Wait here.  Do not move; you are not fit to walk.”

She didn’t say anything, but she did plop back onto the bed with a sigh.  He would take that as assurance that she was settled for the moment.  At least for long enough for him to find the cat food and take care of the furry creature that was winding itself around his legs.

He spoke down to it, “I do not suppose you would tell me where your food was?”

The cat meowed and then trotted over to the door.  When he did not follow it paused, looked back at him, swooshed its tail, and meowed again.  Unexpected.  It was probably just his imagination.  Cats did not lead people after all.

However, when he went to the door, the cat did lead him.  It plopped down in front of one of the cabinets putting a little paw to the wood before looking back at him.  Solas came over and kneeled down to scratch the cat’s ear again, “She would have such a strange creature.”

As though it had understood and took that as an insult the cat pulled from him, turned sticking its butt in the air, then walked over to the food dish all without looking at him.  Solas eyed the creature for a moment before shaking his head and opening the cabinet.  Sure enough, there was the cat food.

He fed the cat and then put the food away.  Then he went back into the bedroom.  When he got there, she had wiggled out of her pants somehow and threw them, who knew where.  He started to look for them, but then she began heaving again.  He lifted her taking her to her toilet again where she regained just enough consciousness to release her stomach more.

This would not work at all; he could not stand to see her like this.  The truth of it was that he had probably been one of the key reasons she had been drinking in the first place.  At least this he could make right tonight.  

Forgetting about her state of dress completely, he scooped her into his arms and hurried out of her apartment.  He set her down only long enough to get her door open then managed to shut it again with his elbow.  Now he was glad he had left his door open as he took her into his apartment and closed his door with his foot.

He took her to the bedroom and placed her carefully on his bed.  That done he went searching for some headache medication he had bought once, tried, detested, and never used again.  Still, it would hopefully help ease her discomfort some.  

Once he had two of the pills, he went to the kitchen for some water and brought it all back to her.  He set on the edge of the bed next to her, gently lifted her head, and eased the pills into her mouth.  

She woke and struggled against him, “Stop squirming.  I have no intention of poisoning you, these will help.”  When she stilled, he placed the glass of water to her lips and said, “Drink.”  She obeyed, and when she’d taken a few gulps, he lowered her back to the bed.  His hand going up to make sure her body temperature wasn’t dropping at all.  

“I’m not sick you know, just stupid.”  She gave a mournful sigh, “You’ll never let me live this down.”

Foolish woman, he would probably let her get away with much more than this; though he did not like that she had hurt herself thus.  “Emmy, hush.”  He let his fingers brush against her cheek and move a strand of hair behind her ear before he adjusted her pillow.

“Ok.  Will you please stay for a minute?  I mean, sorry that’s stupid, you don’t have--”

The pleading, almost panicked tone to her voice made his heart clench painfully in his chest.  “I’m not going anywhere, Emmy.”  Then he paused knowing if he said this out loud it would seal it but then, he knew there had never truly been any going back for him at this point, even if he had wished to.  So he spoke the words, barely a whisper, “Never again.”

Then he bent towards her, paused inches above her, and when she did not move from him, he placed a kiss on her forehead before he said, “Now sleep.”

He stayed sitting next to her, and she did sleep for about a half hour before she started heaving again.  He moved quickly, grabbing a waste basket and holding her hair back while she threw up what little was left in her stomach.  When he was sure she was done, he went to get two wet washcloths, one to clean her face and one to rest on her forehead.

Then, as she dozed again, he practically jogged into his office.  His fingers pressed to a panel on the far wall, it pushed in and then slid open revealing a safe.  He placed his thumb on a pad in the center where a small needle came out and took his blood.  Then the safe clicked open revealing a perfectly preserved wolf jaw attached to thick chord.  

When he took it into his hands, he felt static on his fingertips.  The magic he was able to pull from it was minimal, but it was better than nothing.  Only Mythal and himself had managed to keep items that allowed them even this small amount of magic now when the world was devoid of it.  It was a risk to use and meant only for emergencies, but to him, this constituted one.  He did not want Emmy losing any more fluids through vomiting; she needed rest.

He went back into the bedroom and set on the bed once again.  With a deep breath, he slipped the jaw bone over his neck feeling the flow of magic that returned to him.  It was nothing to what he had before, but it would do.  He then let his fingertips go to press lightly to her temples as he let his magic pulse through him and into her.

He flowed it through her dispelling the lingering alcohol in her blood and healing any remnants of a headache.  As he finished she let out a little sigh of pleasure.  He smiled as he removed his fingers from her.  

That should do it.  If he had not completely lost his touch, she should wake in the morning as though she had never consumed alcohol at all.

Only then did he remember the state of her undress.  He knew that it would be best if she was wearing her clothes but he was loath to leave her should she wake up for some reason and still be ill.  So he compromised and dug in his closet for a large shirt.  When he found a suitable one, he eased her to a sitting position and slid it onto her.  That done he shifted her one more time so he could tuck her into the covers.

Once he was sure she was settled, and sleeping peacefully he went to secure the wolf jaw again.  No doubt he would hear from Mythal about this, but he would deal with it when it happened.  Right now he had more important things to deal with,  one of which was how to get the woman he loved to be his again.


End file.
